Ugly
by Tsuki-no-baka-chan
Summary: Darkness is comfortable when compared to light. One-shot edwin


Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.

This is kinda a...refresher being as I haven't written fanfiction in years. Check it out yo.

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Dark.

That was it, that was what unfolded before his eyes. The darkness seemed to seep through his pores, past muscle and sinew and settle in his bones. It was an uneasy feeling, this invasion of dark in his bones. It seemed to render him powerless, strand him in his bed, leaving him staring into that same debilitating dark. And as it rendered him useless it rendered him foolish all the same. Darkness is simply the absence of light and not a physical thing. It cannot hold a man. It may keep him in one place for fear of being blind but it could never physically hold him.

"Ed?"

His body bristled at the sing-song quality of her voice. To her, he preferred the uneasiness of the dark. At least in the dark he could hide. At least in the dark he could pretend to be blind.

"Edward I know you're awake."

Defeat. He turned his head towards her voice. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut almost immediately. He had nothing to say to her.

"It think this is a first, Edward Elric is speechless."

"Hardly."

He could hear her bare feet pad deftly across the wooden floor. What was it her grandmother had needed to travel for? Why did his brother have to leave with her? Surely nothing that could warrant leaving him alone with _her_.

"Then why won't you answer me when I talk to you."

"Because you're annoying."

That was the wrong answer, but it was not like he had a right one stuffed somewhere up his sleeve.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah," He forced himself to sit upright, "You made that pretty clear earlier."

She sighed heavily, almost sad in a way. "You know I didn't mean it -"

"Then why did you say it?" By now he had turned away from her voice. What was the point in looking in that direction, he couldn't see her regardless.

"B-Because I was angry with you," She stomped her foot against the floor. He couldn't tell if it was in defiance or anger - maybe both. "Because you said stupid things and you made me mad. And, and...Ed can we turn on a light or something? I hate not being able to see you."

His breath hitched in his throat without warning or reason. He coughed a little, annoyed at his bodily reactions. Some days he couldn't help but think it would be better to be encased in a suit of armor like his unfortunate brother.

"I'd rather not."

She scoffed at him. Scoffed. At him. How unreasonable.

"Fine." He heard he feet pad against the floor once more, yet not in the direction that would lead her out of his room. She ripped open the curtains and moonlight engulfed the room. The moonlight, obviously a character of good taste, wrapped its intangible fingers around her; it highlighted her blonde hair, speckled her blue eyes, glistened off her skin, and made the simple, over-sized shirt a little more risque than it had already been.

"Winry..."

The same slivery tendrils of moonlight seemed to slither down his throat and take his voice away. And it was frustrating beyond belief. Frustrating that suddenly he was unable to tell her she annoyed him. Frustrating that he was unable to tell her that he didn't mean what he had said. Frustrating that he was unable to tell her how frustratingly beautiful she looked in that moment.

"Ed..."

She sat down on the edge of his bed and all he wanted to do was use his arms, one metal and one human, to pull her to him and never let go. What silly thoughts moonlight caused.

"Ed, I...I was just angry with you," she looked down into her hands as if they held some sort of answer, or vodlka. Either worked in situations like these. "How could I not be? I bust my ass for years and years. Lose sleep for years and years. Only to have to tell me that you can't stand the sight of yourself? Fucking bullshit."

He raised his eyebrows. Gold eyes brushing over her etheral form. How could something so beautiful be so simultaniously vulgar?

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I...I..." The words seemed to tumble from his parted lips all at once yet never materialize into sound. "I...Winry..."

"Seriously? Thanks Edward," She stood. "That was just what I needed to hear."

He wished for the darkness back. If he hadn't seen her he would've been able to let her walk away. But she had to bring light into his life whether she opened the curtains or simply walked into the room.

So he grabbed her wrist.

"Winry," He flung his legs, one metal and one human, over the side of his bed, "You're beautiful."

"That's sweet but isn't helping your case." Her eyes were cold. Oh - how he wished he could warm them.

"Yes...goddamn I'm getting there. Just...sit."

She sat.

He took a deep breath.

It seemed to empty the room of air.

One breath would have to suffice.

"How can you expect me to look at something as beautiful as you and then look upon myself and say the same? I'm covered in scars, metal, blood, regret, fear, and loathing (self loathing really) and on top of all that is probably another scar or two. How in the world is that beautiful?"

He expected her to cry. She always did when he broke down and got personal.

But she smiled.

And it was wonderful.

And she removed her shirt. And she removed his. And she climbed under the covers but on top of him.

And it was wonderful.

"And somehow, Ed, you've managed to turn all those things into something so wonderful, beautiful, and pure. Somehow. Its amazing really." She pressed her lips to a scar. He didn't know which scar, but it didn't matter. In the moment battle stories became unimportant.

"Somehow you stay blind to your beauty Ed. Somehow all you see is the scraps from your work - and it drives me insane," She pressed her soft lips to another battle story and looked up. Her eyes were warm and it was comforting. It was calming. Somehow her shades of blue had replaced his safe black, the safeness of his dark.

She pressed their bodies together and he felt her soft skin press into his tough exterior. She ran her hands down his arms, one metal and one human, and pulled his hands to her waist. And she took her hands and ran them down his chest tracing stories and scars across the planes learning every contour in speechless wonder. Yet in all her exploration her eyes seemed to never leave his, save for the kisses that would grace his lips or a scar.

And as morning began to break and whittle away at the dark he began to see himself in a new light, even if it was only a borrowed perspective.

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